Can't We All Just Get Along
by 0TongueTied0
Summary: Shorts -Protectobots- These are NOT in sequence
1. Time

She sat in front of the window, the whole day, all day, everyday. After school she'll throw her bags on the floor and jump on the windowsill. Watching, with careful mocha brown eyes. Her blonde, frizy hair pinned back with bobby pins. Her mouth always up in a goofy smile. So when a police car, ambulance, or fire truck would go by she'd wave. Hoping. The day they passed by was the day when she gave up.

11/25/16


	2. Addiction

"So fragging hard, every day." He whispered. Walking through the silent halls until stumbling upon a familiar door. Grasping the doorknob and gently pushing the door open. Hearing the usual creak of it. He sighed as he slipped off his clothes and put on a much too big T-shirt for him and flopping onto the bed. His room was a mess. The cozy room was a close resemblance to a square. The bed right across from the door, with the nightstand against the wall right of the door's wall, right next to the closet. The closet being the farthest of his bed and the closest to the door.

He was flopped down on his stomach with his head at the foot of the bed. In the darkness of the room he saw a pill bottle on his nightstand. They helped him. But . . . he already had his dose for today, but they also made him much happier. Not like his state now. His eyes flickered to the big window next to his head. He always found that he was much more himself, looking at the sky. It was pitch black out. No stars to glitter they sky in its wealth, no stars to show there were others out there, like him! No stars . . . to show that he wasn't alone. He shut his eyes for a moment.

They won't know, they'll never know, because he won't say a word. He will not tell because he was too guilty to keep it a secret when looking 'Aid straight in the eyes and telling him his monthly dose and current condition. When he only say him maybe once or twice, during the span of two months.

Green eyes sharply turning their gaze to the said bottle. He got up slowly, like there were other people actually living with him. Because who wouldn't! Head looking both ways, like he was gonna cross the street to the most life changing event in the world and wouldn't wanna be caught, most importantly by a car.

Hand shakily reaching forward he snatched it up, grabbing the lid, pushing down, and twisting. He heard the sound that haunted his dreams. No nightmares. Pop. Pop, pop, pop . . . Pop.

Shaking a few into his other hand's palm. He counted.

1 . . . 2 . . . 3? Did he want 3? Did he really?

He shook his head and put only one back. Two is more than enough. Opening his mouth he tilted his head back and threw them into his mouth. Quickly grabbing a water bottle that sat right next to the bottle, he downed enough to get it over with fast.

He stood there letting it all set in. instantly regretting it all. Why couldn't he just STOP! He turned sluggishly around. Finally, laying in bed he stared at the ceiling. Swiftly turning on his side facing the wall, away from the door. He wanted to get this over as fast as he could. Just sleep it away. He just wanted to be happy.

He felt it already settling in. The unwanted fuzzy, buzz feeling washing over his body. His mind becoming dazed and foggy. All sensible thoughts getting hurled out the window. Squeezing his eyes shut, he started to relax. Hoping nothing erational happened while he slept.

Because they won't know, they'll never know, because he won't say a word.

11/26/2016


	3. It's Hard

_Pick it up, pick it all up._

It's hard, it really is.

 _And start again._

 _You've got a second chance,_

 _You could go home._

They don't understand. My brothers understood, but their not here right now.

 _Escape it all._

 _It's just irrelevant._

I'm not shy, I'm just tired.

 _It's just medicine._

 _It's just medicine._

Tired of them not understanding. They think that it's not a hard job. Really! They do! And it's exhausting.

 _You could still be,_

 _What you want to,_

 _What you said you were,_

 _When I met you._

I'm sitting here, in my office trying to get through to you from across cybertron. Miss your wrench throwing and your,"frag off if your not injured attitude," because a lot of my 'patients' seem to do that. Like they could get a date with me! But I still am nice with them, cool and calm, like you taught me. I'm much more confident, no more shy guy.

 _You've got a warm heart,_

 _You've got a beautiful brain._

 _But it's disintegrating,_

 _From all the medicine._

 _From all the medicine._

 _From all the medicine._

 _Medicine._

Corruptence is not a pretty word, but . . . there has been a virus going on around town taking those who are not fit enough to fight it off. Too young . . . it's awful. Terrible!

 _You could still be_

 _What you want to be_

 _What you said you were,_

 _When you met me._

The scientists here nearly have a cure, so we might be good.

 _You could still be_

 _What you want to_

 _What you said you were,_

 _When I met you_

I'm here now.

 _When you met me._

finally being heard.

 _When I met you._

And I'm fighting back this time. I'm not going anywhere.

 _Medicine._

 _Medicine._

 _Medicine_ _._ _Medicine_ _._ _Medicine_ _._

 _Medicine_ _._

 _11/29/16 + 11/30/16_


End file.
